Chicken Pox
by pyroJoe
Summary: Darry comes down sick with the chicken pox, and it is up to Pony to take care of him. There is just one thing Darry doesn't want him to do.


"Stop itching!" Soda grinned. He put his DX cap on. "Ponyboy, I am going to work. You are going to have to watch him." Soda jerked his head in my general direction.

"He's going to school." I said grabbing another blanket. I had camped out the night before on the couch.

"You're delirious. When's the last time someone took your temperature?" Soda made an attempt to feel my forehead.

I smacked his hand out of the way. "I'm fine. Take Pony to school."

"Darry." Soda looked at me funny. "It's Saturday. I have to go, I'll get fired if I'm late again." It was a lie; that gas station would never fire Soda. He brought in too many girls, who needed their tanks filled up. "Good luck, kiddo." He hollered over to Ponyboy.

I thought I was just coming down with the flu. I figured I picked it up when we went camping last weekend. I knew that is where the poison ivy came from. However, when my fever spiked to one –o-three, Pony and Soda forced me to go to the doctor. That's when I found out I had chicken pox. That poison ivy that started on my arms spread like wild fire all over my body. I remembered Soda, and Pony having it at the same time. Mom kept them quarantined in their bedrooms. How the hell I contracted it at twenty, I had no clue. The doc had told me, it's a lot worse when adults get it.

I looked up at Pony. There was no way he was going to try to nurse me back to health. "Ponyboy, go play football or something."

"I can't you grounded me Thursday. AND washed my mouth out with soap." He was scowling at me.

The memories of two days ago floated back into my head. "Don't you have homework?"

"What do you think I did with my Friday night." Now he was really scowling at me. The kid should go out for drama. He had these facial expressions down to a T.

"Watch out, when you make faces like that. Your face freezes, and then you are stuck like that forever." I tried to make him smile a little. I wasn't in the mood to fight. I pulled myself slowly into sitting position. Here was the thing; most people think that chicken pox you just itch. No it feels like you have the full-blown flu, and the itching part was just the gas to the flame.

Ponyboy grinned a little. "Hey what are you doing?" He asked as I made my attempt to stand up.

It didn't work out. The entire ground met the ceiling in a giant tornado. I fell backwards onto the couch.

"Darry just lie down!" Ponyboy commanded. "You just need to rest. Stop scratching!"

I closed my eyes. Sleep was the only time I didn't feel the itching. I had woken up a few times. I could either here my little brother banging around, or just say the blur of his body. I finally fell into a deep sleep. The next time I woke up, I felt something freezing into my brain. I couldn't get it off. There was something on my hands. I had socks on my hands. I pulled the sock off, and then grabbed the rag off my head. That's when I took notice to the bucket on the floor. I also had an extra blanket covering me up.

"You kept scratching in your sleep." Pony said. He was sitting on the floor trying to fold sheets. "That's why the socks are on."

I scratched behind my knee. Damn it, these things were everywhere. "And the bucket, rag and blanket are for what?"

"Well, you puked all over. Your temperature went up to 103 again, but you were shivering. I pulled off your shirt, put new blankets on you, and then put the rag on you to reduce the fever. The bucket was incase you puked again. I rolled you on your side, I heard people can choke on puke and die."

I couldn't help but laugh a little. I wasn't drunk and passed out. "How did you roll me?" I asked.

Pony glared at me. "It wasn't easy. You weight a lot."

"I'll start dieting tomorrow." I said sarcastically.

Ponyboy rolled his eyes at me. "I made you tomato soup. I know it's your favorite. Want some?"

I nodded and went to try to stand. "No!" Pony shouted. "Just stay there. I'll get it." He made a bolt for the kitchen. "Stop scratching!" He said from the kitchen.

"Okay, I stopped." I lied moving my hand from my knee to my ribs. This was worse than poison ivy.

"You're so stubborn. You couldn't even stop in your sleep. It will get worse or something." Pony handed me a bowl of soup.

I had started eating the soup when I realized that Pony had cleaned the entire house, from top to bottom. We all had our usual chores. However, I took over most of the housework too; the part that Mom did at least. This was the first since our parent's death that the house looked like this. Actually lately it looked like a hurricane had made it's way through the house. "You've been busy. I see. Want me to show you an easy way to fold those." I asked.

Pony was laying the sheets flat on the floor, and then folding them. "No, I go it. You stay there."

"What if I have to use the bathroom?" I asked wondering if he was going to let me up. "Do I just do my business on the couch too."

He really scowled at me that time. "You just need rest. How do you do this?"

I finished my bowl of soup. "Do what?"

"Last month when Soda and I had the flu. You went to work, took care of us, and cleaned the house. You do a lot." He grabbed my bowl. "Do you want more?"

"No, You're easy to take care of; you sleep. Soda walks around and makes himself sicker." I said.

"You are superman." He mumbled taking my bowl into the kitchen. "STOP SCRATCHING! I'll glue the socks to your hands. You need to get better."

I was now slightly convinced he either could see through walls or had super hearing abilities. I took my hand away from the back on my neck. There was something in voice, something was really wrong.

"Ponyboy, come over here." I patted the coffee table. Right now, he was probably the only one light enough to sit on the table.

I looked at my little brother; he had dark rings under his eyes. He rubbed the top of his forehead. Pony got headaches when he worried too much. The result of why we were always low on aspirin. A patch of skin just above his right eye was rubbed raw. My brothers helped me out with things around the house, but Pony had spring cleaned, and done all the laundry. He reached over and grabbed the thermometer. "Take it again." He ordered softly.

"Ponyboy…" He shoved the thermometer in my mouth and under my tongue in one try.

"Just do it. You are still cold but your face is flushed. Those are signs of a fever. If it goes up to 103, we need to go to the hospital."

I felt my eyes grow wide. He was a little on the paranoid side. I grabbed the thermometer out of my mouth. "I'll take it, but you have to promise me you will consider pre med in college. Soda tried all morning to do that."

"Fine, I will." Pony said. I put the thermometer back in my mouth. I let him take it out. "98.9, it went down."

I smiled a little bit. "Thank you Doctor Ponyboy."

He frowned, and smacked my hand away from my shoulder where I was scrathching. "That makes me sound like a veterinarian."

"What's wrong? Why are you freaking out like this? I have an annoying case of the chicken pox, not cancer?" I asked

"You've never been sick before." He said. "103 is really bad, so is choking on puke. I got to thinking, what would happen if something really did happen. I thought loosing our parents was the worst; I never thought about loosing a brother. You are too stubborn to let someone take care of you. I mean, you can't even stop scratching in your sleep!"

It wasn't easy for him to admit that. I knew how he felt. I thought loosing our parents was the worst thing that could happen to us. Then day two of taking care of them, they came home five minutes late from school. I realized loosing them would be even worse. I carried that with me everyday. I willed myself not to scratch.

"Ponyboy, everyone gets sick." I couldn't help it; I had to scratch my shoulders. "But, I aint going anywhere. I'm superman, and I bounce right back."

Ponyboy switched over to the couch. He leaned on my shoulder that was itching, and grabbed my arm and put it around him, while using his other hand to pin down my hand.. He found his way to get me to stop scratching. Pony was still innocent, he was just barely a teenager, and he had all of high school still. Not to mention, the fun he would have in college. I wanted him to stay innocent, and not have to worry himself grey like I do.

"I hope you are superman." He said looking up at me.

"See, kiddo". I grabbed him by the middle and picked him straight up in the air. "It isn't me you have to do the worrying for. It's you." I tossed him on his back on the couch and started tickling him. He managed to laugh out all the worry. "You're going to have to take care of me when I am an old man, and you are a big shot doctor."

Pony squirmed around. "Okay, okay, I will. I promise."

"Quit your worrying," I ordered with a smile. Despite the itching, I felt a lot better. He would make a damn good doctor, if that is what he wants to be.


End file.
